X-Men Evolution: Reloaded
by Magnetrix
Summary: A reboot of our favourite cartoon, with an all new character lineup and ties to the comics. After a devastating loss over a decade ago, Charles Xavier reopened his school and began accepting new students. But across town, somebody else was doing a little recruiting as well, only his motives weren't so noble. Who are the Brotherhood? A bunch of inexperienced thugs? Or cleve
1. Laser Beams and Monster Trucks

X-Men Evolution: Reloaded

Summary: A reboot of our favourite cartoon, with an all new character lineup and ties to the comics. After a devastating loss over a decade ago, Charles Xavier reopened his school and began accepting new students. But across town, somebody else was doing a little recruiting as well, only his motives weren't so noble. Who are the Brotherhood? A bunch of inexperienced thugs? Or clever, calculating terrorists?

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this story are the property of Marvel. I'm just messing around with them.

AN: This story takes elements from the X-Men comics, the movies, my own imagination, and of course, the Evolution cartoon. If you don't recognize a character, it appeared in the comics.

*Indicates telepathic communication.*

'Indicates character thoughts.'

[hr]

Chapter 1: Laser Beams and Monster Trucks

[hr]

God, his head hurt.

Scott Summers slumped in his chair, letting out a deep breath as his head fell upon the wooden surface of his desk with a soft thud. This was the worst headache he'd had in weeks, and he'd been having bad ones as of late. Doctors chalked it up to nothing more than migraines caused by stress, and Scott went along with that diagnosis. But this one felt different, not like the usual migraine.

The intensity of the pain was greater than anything he'd experienced in his sixteen years. It felt like somebody was repeatedly bashing a hammer against the inside of his skull. But that wasn't what disturbed him. He was used to pain, he'd suffered head trauma in a car accident so it came with the territory. But there was this odd sensation in his head, a pressure that seemed to be slowly building up behind his eyes. Scott was no medical expert, but something about this didn't feel right.

"Mr. Summers!"

The sound of the teacher's voice caused Scott to jerk his head up from his desk, making the pain a lot worse and causing a wave of dizziness to wash over the young man. Scott tried to focus on the man standing before him, but his vision suddenly became distorted and the man's silhouette faded in and out. Suddenly, his stomach lurched, and Scott felt the all-too-familiar sensation of bile rising in his throat.

"Mr. Schwartz, I'm gonna be sick. Can I go to the washroom?" Scott asked, hoping against all hope that his overly strict science teacher would allow him the privilege of puking in private.

"Yeah, sure, Summers, but come back when you're done."

Scott was out of his seat and halfway across the room before the teacher could finish his sentence. He felt the eyes of his classmates on him as he flung open the door and dashed into the nearly empty hallway, hurrying down its length toward the boys' washroom. He managed to reach his destination just in time, and barely had enough time to get to the toilet before his lunch came out the same way it had gone in.

After Scott was satisfied that his stomach had been emptied, he went to the sink to splash cold water on his face. His head still hurt, but at least the nausea had subsided. However, a frightening new symptom had made itself known, one that caused the teenager to freeze in his tracks. As he looked up from the sink, Scott glanced his reflection in the mirror, and saw something that made his stomach lurch again. There was something strange about his eyes. They were their usual brown, but they kind of had an eerie reddish tint to them. If Scott didn't know any better, he would think they were glowing.

And then it happened. Scott's world went red, and there was a tremendous explosion. Plaster, glass, and shards of metal rained down upon the young man, whose eyes were wide in terror. What was happening?

Screams could be heard close by, and for a moment Scott wondered where they were coming from as the washroom had been empty. But to his horror he realized they were coming from the girls' washroom. The concrete wall separating the two rooms had been completely obliterated, along with part of the ceiling and a good chunk of the far wall of the girls' washroom, which was occupied by two terrified freshman girls.

A blinding pain ripped through Scott's eyes as though somebody had poured acid into them, and something struck him in the face hard enough to knock him off his feet. Scott felt his body slam against the tiled floor of the washroom, and his world began to fade in and out.

Before he lost consciousness, one last thought crossed the mind of the frightened teenager. 'Help me.'

[hr]

Charles Xavier frantically tapped away on his smart phone as his motorized wheelchair propelled itself down the lengthy corridors of his Victorian-style mansion. He reached the elevator just as the heavy steel doors slid open, permitting him entrance into the claustrophobic metal box.

"Sub-basement one," Xavier spoke into the tiny box mounted on the wall to the left of the doors, and the elevator obeyed. A few seconds later, the elevator stopped, and the cold, feminine robot voice announced that it had reached its destination. Xavier exited the elevator and directed his wheelchair toward a circular steel door. Halting in front of it, he allowed the retina scanner to confirm his presence, and with a soft hiss the door opened, revealing a massive circular chamber beyond.

Charles wheeled himself to the computer console in the centre of the chamber, picking up the helmet that sat on top of it and placing it on his head.

This machine was known as Cerebra. Charles Xavier had designed and built it several years ago. It was, simply put, a mutant tracking device. The machine amplified Xavier's telepathic abilities to the point where he was able to track mutant signatures all over the world. A holographic map displayed above the main console showed where each mutant signature was located, represented by a red dot. Blue dots represented normal humans.

Upon donning the helmet, Charles Xavier reached out with his mind to find the mutant in need, zeroing in on a particular signature in Omaha, Nebraska.

As soon as he had connected with the mutant, Xavier immediately realized just how serious it was.

'Help me.'

The desperate mental cry of the frightened boy echoed through Xavier's mind, and before removing the helmet, he sent out a comforting thought to the young man.

*It's all right Scott. Help is on the way.*

[hr]

Scott's first instinct was to open his eyes when he finally returned to the waking world, but something in the back of his mind told him not to. Thankfully, something had been wrapped around them, making it difficult for him to do so anyway. He barely remembered what had happened at school, but at the moment he had more important things to focus on, like where he was and how he'd ended up there. As the fog lifted from his mind, the answers to both questions became obvious. Judging by the familiar 'beep beep beep' of a heart monitor and the fact he appeared to be lying on a bed of sorts, he was in the hospital. He also realized that there was somebody next to his bed.

"Hello Scott, good to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Scott didn't recognize the voice. It was male, that much he knew, and that person wasn't a doctor, because if it was a doctor he'd be standing up and it sounded like that person was sitting down.

"My head hurts," Scott replied.

"The doctors say you suffered a concussion," said the stranger. "You're going to have a bit of a headache for a while."

Scott heard an odd whirring sound move closer to his bed, and then felt a slight tug on the wrappings over his eyes. "Scott, I'm going to pull…"

"No don't!" Scott cried out, instinctively grabbing the person's hand.

"It's all right, Scott," the person said calmly. *I know all about your condition. Just keep your eyes closed, and don't open them until I tell you to.*

That last part was not spoken aloud; rather it was spoken in Scott's mind. "How did you…"

"You're not the only one with gifts, Scott," the person responded. "Now close your eyes. I'm going to pull off your bandages."

Scott did as he was told, shutting his eyes as tightly as possible as the stranger removed his bandages. Seconds later, he felt something else drop onto his face. Something hard.

"Okay Scott, open your eyes."

"Uh, are you sure you want me to do that?"

"It's quite all right, Scott," the strange man said. "I'm holding it in place."

Scott hesitated for a moment before opening his eyes. He braced himself for what was to come, but as his eyelids fluttered open, he was relieved to see that he was not destroying everything in his path. Once more, he could finally see the person he'd been speaking with. He was slightly blurry and kind of had a reddish tint to him, like everything else in the room, but he could see him.

He was a slight man who looked to be in his forties, with a fair complexion and completely bald. He wore a pair of grey slacks and a turtleneck sweater. He was also sitting in a wheelchair, which, Scott realized, was the source of the strange sound he'd heard only moments ago.

"Can you see me?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Scott replied. "Who are you?"

"My name is Professor Charles Xavier," the man replied. "Like you, I also possess gifts. As you may have guessed, I'm a telepath. I can read the thoughts of other people and project my own into their minds, among other things."

Scott was well aware of the existence of mutants. That was all anyone ever talked about, and they didn't exactly have flattering things to say about them. Mutants were dangerous. Mutants killed people for no reason. Mutants were the scum of the Earth. Scott didn't really give much to thought to his own view of mutants, but he supposed he would have to now that he was one.

"What do I have?" Scott asked.

"Well, from what I've gathered, you possess a form of energy manipulation that allows your body to absorb certain types of electromagnetic energy, metabolize it, and release it through your eyes in a concentrated beam, like a very powerful laser. The piece of material I'm holding over your eyes is called ruby quartz, and what it does is absorb the energy from your eye beams so you are able to keep your eyes open without activating your mutant abilities."

"So I have to walk around holding that thing over my eyes?"

"No, not exactly," Xavier replied. "I know a young man who is quite good at building things. If you like, I can get him to fashion you a pair of ruby quartz glasses."

"You would do that for me?" Scott asked, genuinely surprised at this man's kindness. As an unwanted foster child and an outcast, Scott had never been on the receiving end of such kindness before."

"When I was younger, I never had anyone to help me learn to cope with my abilities. I had to teach myself, and it was not easy. I don't want other mutants to have to struggle like I did, so I do my best to offer the support and guidance they need. If that's all right with you, I would like to take you back to my school in Bayville, New York. I can help you better understand your abilities, and you'll be among other young mutants."

"Yes," Scott replied, not even thinking about his answer. For one thing, he didn't have a home to go back to. Once it got out that he was a mutant and that he destroyed his school, nobody would want anything to do with him. Also, the prospect of being in a safe, stable environment with other mutants was appealing. "I'll go with you."

[hr]

The stands were packed and the fans cheered as they watched the star attraction of the rodeo pull off his signature stunt. Freddie "The Blob" Dukes, an oversized man with inhuman bulk and great strength, stood centre stage as he prepared to wow another crowd. On each side of him, two fully equipped big rigs faced away from him with heavy chains attached to the rear. Taking hold of the chains, Fred wrapped them around his massive arms and gripped them with intent as they prepared to engage in an extreme tug-of-war.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! The moment you've all been waiting for! Fred "The Blob" Dukes will now perform his signature stunt!" said the announcer over the loudspeakers.

The engines of the trucks revved in preparation for the stunt. With a look of intensity on his face, Fred gripped the chains and with the screech of the tires, the trucks accelerated in the opposite direction. If Fred had been a normal human being, there was no doubt he would have been torn in half. But Fred was no ordinary human being.

The trucks had only made it a few feet before they stopped cold. Without even breaking a sweat, Fred slowly pulled the trucks back toward him. The audience could only watch in shock as a single man held two trucks back going full speed.

"Oh my God, how did he do that?" gasped one woman.

"Man, what I wouldn't give to be as strong as his is." said a teenaged boy.

"And I thought those sword swallowers were nuts." said another man.

Then The Blob went in for the big finish. With a hard grunt, the young man yanked on each chain. A deafening bang echoed through the rodeo as the backs of the trucks were ripped off, causing the front parts to keel over. Then in a further show of his strength, Fred held onto the chains and flung the two discarded scraps together and warped them beyond recognition. While the audience cheered, the crew was panicking to get the drivers out of the trucks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, The Blob!"

More cheers erupted from the stands as Fred Dukes once again stood in triumph. There was nothing more enjoyable than showing off his strength to the idiots who shelled out some coin to see this. It was always the most popular part of the show and the most destructive. And only he could pull it off. But not everybody appreciated his knack for destruction.

"You oversized freak!" yelled one of the crewmen. "You weren't supposed to slam them together! Now how are we going to repair them?"

"Simple. Get new ones," scoffed Fred. "I'll be in my trailer."

Still waving to the crowd, Fred retreated through the tunnel entrance and made his way toward his trailer. All that tugging was easy, but he'd worked up quite an appetite doing it. He couldn't wait to hit the buffet table before settling in for the evening.

But just as he neared the exit, the lights flickered and the door to his trailer began to rattle.

"What the hell?" said the oversized mutant.

"That was quite a show you put on," said a deep voice. "Very impressive."

Fred turned to see a dark figure wearing a cape and a strange helmet on his head standing in the corner.

"You lookin' for an autograph?" Fred asked.

The figure shook his head.

"I have something better," he replied. "Mr. Dukes, how would you like to be more than just a mere sideshow attraction?"

"You offerin' me a spot in the movies or somethin'? You some sorta Hollywood agent? 'Cause I ain't interested unless you're payin' me a king's ransom."

"No, nothing quite like that," the figure replied. "But you will be known as someone who stood up for all of mutantkind when the human scum tried to oppress them, destroy them, or in your case turn them into their personal entertainment."

Fred thought about it for a moment. "Your offer sounds good 'n all," he began. "But I have one question."

"Yes?"

"Do I get to break stuff?"

The figure laughed. "Oh yes, Mr. Dukes."

"Then I'm in!"

[hr]

Next up, Scott and Fred get settled in and meet their respective classmates. But it's never a dull moment around Bayville, as somebody is shaking things up. A young girl in Chicago finds out she can walk through walls. Click that there review button and let me know whatcha think! Also, apologies for any typographical errors.


	2. Shakes and Shadows Part I

X-Men Evolution: Reloaded

AN: Onward and upward! Thanks to those who reviewed, and enjoy this chapter!

[hr]

Chapter 2: Shakes and Shadows Part I

[hr]

Kitty Pryde was having a bad day. She seemed to be having a lot of bad days lately, but this had to be one of the worst. She was sitting outside the principal's office at her high school, listening as her parents and the principal argued back and forth inside. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by all the yelling going on, it wasn't looking good. Her chances of being allowed to stay at this school were getting worse by the second. They had done this dance before and every time it seemed to get worse. The principal seemed to really have it out for her, even though she was one of the top students in her class and wasn't a troublemaker.

Just a freshman in high school, she was an outcast and a misfit. About two years ago she started to have these strange headaches. The doctors had chalked it up to stress, and she had gone along with that diagnosis. After all, she was one of the best students at her middle school and had been entered into the gifted program. There was certainly a lot of pressure to work hard and work hard she did. But over time, the headaches had gotten steadily worse. Her parents had taken her back to the doctor more times than she could count, and she had every test imaginable performed – blood tests, MRIs, even a spinal tap which was not something she cared to have done again, but they couldn't find anything wrong with her.

Then something really strange happened. One day, she had had a particularly awful headache and went to take a nap in her room. She'd been lying in bed, covers over her head and desperately trying to fall asleep when she felt an odd sensation come over her. It was very similar to that falling sensation one experienced when going to sleep. Only she kept falling, until she felt her body slam against something hard. When she opened her eyes, Kitty found herself lying on the concrete floor of the laundry room. And that's when her hell began.

At first, she tried to ignore what happened. She did fall through her bed a few more times, but chalked up to sleepwalking, because humans didn't pass through objects. It was impossible. Sometimes when she would go to pick something up, it would fall right through her hand, which she chalked up to clumsiness. But on her first day of high school, something happened that she simply couldn't ignore, and neither could anyone else for that matter. She was walking to her usual table in the cafeteria, lunch tray in hand, when somebody accidentally bumped into her. They had knocked into her so hard that it caused her to fall toward a table where a group of students were sitting. In her panic, Kitty tried to stop herself, but ended up passing right through the table and some of the kids that were sitting there.

Ever since that day, she had faced rejection and endless ridicule. This was also around the time she found out exactly what she was – a mutant, and in everyone's eyes mutants were these horrible creatures that killed and maimed people for the hell of it, even though that wasn't true at all. The media continuously showed reports of radical mutant groups causing destruction and mayhem just because they could, and many politicians grabbed onto the so-called mutant problem and made it worse than it really was. But people ate it up, and now that Kitty was a mutant, nobody wanted to associate with her. Some of her teachers even refused to let her in their classes either out of fear or just plain bigotry, she wasn't sure which. Now she was about to be kicked out of school, all because she was unfortunate enough to have been born a mutant.

"This matter is over!" a booming voice could be heard from inside the principal's office. "There's no way I'm letting that freak of nature back in my school!"

"Excuse me? Did you just refer to my fourteen-year-old daughter as a freak of nature? You do realize we can sue this school for discrimination, don't you?"

"Lady, I hear that about once a month! But hey, go ahead and try. I've got the school board on my side, which also includes their team of lawyers. But if you want to waste your money, go ahead."

"You sir, are one arrogant prick."

"I hear that about once a month, too. Now unless you want me to call security and have them escort you out, I suggest you take your leave. This matter is over. End of discussion."

Kitty's heart sank. This was it. She was officially kicked out of school. Sure she could always go to another high school, but she doubted any of them would take her due to her mutant status. She would probably have to be home-schooled, and who knew about college. Her life was over.

The door to the office finally opened and her parents came walking out, their heads hung low. She could see the anger in her father's eyes, and the tears in her mother's. She also noticed Mr. Eldridge the principal standing behind them, an expression of smug satisfaction on his face. Suddenly, Kitty felt the urge to jump up, run past her parents into the office, and beat the smug right off his face. But she doubted her little 5'2; 101 pound frame could do much damage.

"Told you," said Kitty bitterly.

"We're sorry you had to hear that, sweetie," said her mother, walking up to her. "But don't you worry. We'll fight this! Until then, we'll have to home-school you."

"That'll be a blast," muttered Kitty.

"Hey, I know it looks bad now, Kitty, but you have to have faith. We'll get a lawyer, one of the best in Chicago, and we'll fight this. I promise."

Kitty wasn't feeling so optimistic, and neither were her parents for that matter, but she could see they were just trying to keep her spirits up.

"We'll find a way," said her father. "We'll go to hell and back if we have to, but we'll find a way to get you back in school. Now what do you say we go home and sit down to a family meal? I'll make my famous stuffed peppers."

"Thanks dad, but I think I'd rather walk home. I…need to be alone right now," said Kitty.

"Are you sure?" her mother asked.

Kitty nodded. "I'll be okay Mom. I've got my phone. I really need some time to think."

The young mutant got up and left. Mr. and Mrs. Pryde didn't stop her, as much as they wanted to. The look on her face said it all. She didn't want to be bothered, and they knew it was best to leave her be. As sweet and kind as their daughter was, she preferred keeping to herself. And ever since her mutant abilities manifested, she had a lot to keep in.

[hr]

Kitty walked out of her former school with her head hung low, her chestnut brown hair falling over one side of her face. Her spirit was utterly shattered. Any chance at a relatively normal life was gone, all because people were so close-minded and refused to accept anyone who was different. Kitty would never hurt anyone. If anything, she could use her newfound abilities to help people. She couldn't help but think this country was looking more and more like Germany back when the Nazis were in charge. Both sets of grandparents had survived the Holocaust. They had seen the worst humanity had to offer, and in her dark mood, Kitty wondered if history was repeating itself.

She walked past a wall with some graffiti spray painted across it that read 'Send all mutants back to hell!' It was probably some arrogant punk's idea of a joke. Well, it wasn't funny at all. They had no idea how much those words hurt. They made her feel so isolated and powerless. It was ironic in a way, because being a mutant was supposed to make someone stronger than normal humans. But in her case, it made her feel weak and vulnerable. Sometimes she wished she had a more interesting ability than walking through walls, like telekinesis or the ability to turn straw into gold, or better yet the power to turn invisible. Sometimes she wished she'd never been born at all. But these were the cards she was dealt in life. She could either hide in a corner for the rest of her life, or find ways to learn to live with this.

With so much on her mind she decided to take the long way home. She needed to think about what she was going to do now. She crossed a street and past a couple of shops. She then turned left down a small road that led to the parking lot of a restaurant. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice a teenage boy coming up beside her.

"Excuse me, are you Katherine Pryde?" he asked in a thick accent, one that Kitty guessed was Russian.

Kitty stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. There standing tall before her was an imposing young man a year or two older than she was. He had a well-built muscular physique, short, black hair that was nicely cut and blue eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Is…is there something you want?" she asked anxiously.

"Please, do not be afraid," he told her. "My name is Peter Rasputin. And you are Katherine Anne Pryde, are you not?"

Now she was curious. This guy knew her full name. He still seemed a little intimidating, but something about him seemed non-threatening. Her anxiety faded a bit, and she slowly approached him.

"How do you know my name?" she asked.

"I know a lot about you," said Peter with a smile. "I know because I'm just like you. I'm a mutant too, and we're not the only ones."

"I know that," Kitty said. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't hear about mutants doing bad things."

"Well, not all of us are like that. Some of us want to use our abilities for good. Professor Xavier, the man that found me and brought me to this country, teaches us how to control our abilities. He runs a school for mutants in New York."

"Wait, a school?" Now Kitty was interested. If there really was a school for mutants, maybe she could go there instead. It would certainly be a step up from where she was now, and she would be around more people like her. "This is for real, right? You're not trying to trick me or anything?"

Peter shook his head. "Not at all. If it makes you feel better, we can go back to your house and talk. Your parents will probably want to know about this anyway."

Kitty thought about it for a moment. "Okay," she said, pulling her phone out of her purse. "I'll call my dad to come pick us up."

Kitty dialled her home number, and waited until she heard someone pick up on the other end. "Kitty? Is everything all right?" she heard her father's voice.

"Dad, please come pick me up," Kitty said, barely able to contain her excitement. "There's something I have to tell you."

"Is everything all right, honey?"

"Yeah, everything's great, Dad," Kitty said. "This guy told me about…"

"What guy? Kitty, stay right there! Don't go with him!"

"Oh my god, Dad, let me finish! Anyway, this guy just told me about a school for mutants in New York. You have to listen to what he has to say. I think…I think this might solve all my problems."

[hr]

Peter Rasputin was nervous, to say the least. This was his first mission by himself, and even though it was a simple recruiting mission, he couldn't help but feel anxious. He really wanted to make Professor Xavier proud. He felt like he owed the man for everything he had done for him and especially his family. So naturally, Peter hoped that this simple mission would go well. And so far, it seemed to be doing just that. Katherine, or Kitty as she preferred, appeared to be very excited about the prospect of a school for mutants. But she wanted to talk it over with her parents, which Peter completely understood. He had done the same thing when Xavier had approached him.

They were currently sitting in the Prides' living room. Peter was seated in an armchair while Kitty sat cross-legged on the sofa beside him, her hazel eyes casting nervous glances at her parents who were standing in the kitchen preparing snacks, their backs to them. Finally, Teresa Pryde walked into the living room, carrying a tray containing two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies.

"I hope you like gingerbread, Peter," Mrs. Pryde said, placing the tray on the coffee table. "They're Kitty's favourite."

"Thank you, Mrs. Pryde," Peter said politely, lifting his mug from the tray.

"Thanks Mom," Kitty said, taking a cookie from the plate.

"Will you need anything else?" Mrs. Pryde asked.

"No, thank you," said Peter.

The woman took a seat on a chair across from the young man, her pleasant smile never fading. "So, Peter, what part of Russia are you from?" she asked. "Some of my mother's family came from there."

"Well, I grew up on a farm near Lake Baikal," Peter replied.

"You're English is very good, almost perfect," complemented Mrs. Pryde. "Did you take any classes before coming here?"

"Not really," Peter replied. "I was home-schooled all my life, and what I learned I picked up from British and North American TV shows. Professor Xavier enrolled me in an ESL class when I first came here, but other than that I just learned from other people. I still get some of my words mixed up, and I don't really understand most of your slang."

"That makes two of us," said Carmen Pryde, joining everyone else in the living room. "I swear I think kids these days make up their own language just so we can't understand them."

Peter laughed. "That explains my sister's handwriting."

"So what about this school you go to?" asked Mrs. Pryde. "Kitty seems very excited about it."

"Oh, yes," Peter produced a brochure of the Institute and handed it to Mrs. Pryde. "It's like a regular school – you learn things like math, science and that sort of thing, but you also get special training in ways to control your abilities."

"Training? What sort of training?" asked Mr. Pryde.

"It all depends on your mutant abilities," Peter replied. "For me, I'm required to take meditation classes. It helps me gain control of my mutation so I don't have any…um…unpleasant experiences in public."

"What exactly can you do?" Kitty asked.

"I'll try my best to explain this," Peter answered. "I can turn my body into steel."

"Whoa," Kitty said. "That definitely beats walking through walls."

"I don't know," said Peter. "I think what you can do is very interesting."

Kitty couldn't help but smile. "Really?"

Peter nodded. "It would definitely make it easier to get out of certain sensations. Like if you accidentally lock your keys out of your car, you won't have to wait for someone to come help you get in."

"Good point," Kitty said, now feeling much better about her own situation. She really hoped her parents would let her go to this school. She knew that this could be the only chance she had to get the help she needed, not to mention a chance to meet others like her, and possibly make new friends.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" her mother asked her, and Kitty need not have to think about her reply.

"I wanna go, Mom," she said. "I don't have any other choice. There's nothing here for me. I can't go back to school and I don't have any friends here. Besides, if they can help me, I might have a chance of getting into a good college, and that's something I want more than anything."

There was silence for a few seconds, and Kitty could see that her parents were thinking really hard about what she had said. Finally, her mother spoke up.

"Kitty, this school is all the way in New York. You've never been away from home before. Are you sure…"

"Mom, I'll be fine," Kitty cut her off. "It's not like there won't be any adult supervision."

"Professor Xavier and the other instructors are very strict when it comes to us," Peter added. "Don't worry Mrs. Pryde, she'll be safe."

Kitty's mother was about to say something else, but her husband cut in before she could protest.

"Terri, this is the best thing for her right now," he assured his wife. "If this is the only way to help Kitty, then we should let her go live at that school."

Mrs. Pryde sighed. "You're right. When…when will she have to leave?"

"Any time she wants to," Peter replied. "I could contact Professor now if you like…"

"Yes!" Kitty interrupted. "Please do that. Just give me some time to pack my stuff."

She jumped up from the sofa, racing past Peter and up the stairs to her room. The young man was slightly taken aback at how quickly Kitty had said yes, and pulled out his phone to call Professor Xavier.

[hr]

Classes at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters were probably the most normal things got for its students. In a school that catered to super-powered teenagers, the day to day routine of being a normal student was probably the least stressful thing anyone had to deal with. Even for those who had been good students at their old school, it was a dramatic shift.

Scott Summers was one of those students. Before his powers manifested, getting good grades was all he thought about. As an unwanted orphan bounced from foster home to foster home, Scott was considered a high risk kid. Kids like him often slipped through the cracks and ended up living a life of crime because they felt they had nowhere else to go. Not Scott. He was going to get good grades and he was going to go to college and become somebody. This is what his parents had always wanted for him, and he felt he owed them that much. However, once he had become a student of the Xavier Institute, his priorities underwent a massive shift. Good grades were still very important to Scott and he did his best to keep them up, but now he also had to learn ways to control his newfound abilities. Scott now had a brand new pair of ruby quartz glasses that prevented him from destroying everything in his path. He was also given a special visor for training simulations that allowed him to control how much energy he could release. Unfortunately, due to his brain injury, Scott was unable to turn off his powers whenever he wanted. Nevertheless he worked hard at his training and worked out at least three times a week to build up his muscle tone.

But it wasn't just his powers Scott focused on. He also learned to work with a team, and while doing that he discovered he was a natural leader. He could easily lead his peers through a training simulation, and had no problem planning and strategizing. This helped him gain confidence in himself, and it also earned the respect of his peers and the instructors. Well, maybe not all of his peers. He was well aware that certain students often made fun of him for being so rigid, but it didn't bother him. It was just friendly teasing anyway.

That was something else he had longed for, friends. Scott didn't have any back at his old school. The other kids either ignored him or bullied him mercilessly. But now he lived among other kids he could relate to, other kids who wouldn't judge him for who he was.

On top of that, Scott felt like a part of something, like somehow he was going to impact the course of world events. He was, after all, a part of a group that the world hated and feared. And now that he'd given some thought, he realized that he too shared Xavier's dream of making the world a better place for humans and mutants, a place where both groups could live together in peace. He knew enough about history to know what happened when people refused to accept those who were different. All one had to do was look back at the Holocaust.

"Those that do not learn from history, are doomed to repeat it," Scott found himself reading aloud.

"Did you say something, Scott?" said a tall, shapely black woman with white hair and blue eyes, who was sitting at the front of the classroom going over lessons with a pale, dark-haired girl.

"No Ms. Munroe," said Scott distantly. "Just talking to myself."

"Isn't that a symptom of at least fifteen different mental illnesses?" joked a young man with short, light brown hair.

"Oh shut up, Bobby," snapped a pretty Asian girl with a ponytail. "Seriously, can you not go one class without further cementing your status as the Institute's resident jerk?"

"Jeez, Suzie, don't confuse me with the winged wonder over there," said Bobby, jabbing a thumb toward a tall, blond teenage boy with a massive pair of white feathery wings extending out from his shoulders. "Talk about your resident jerk."

"Shut your mouth, Iceman-child," the boy snapped.

"All right, everybody, how about we do less talking, and more working," Ororo Munroe spoke up, and the class immediately fell silent, not wanting to incur the wrath of the weather witch.

Scott Summers kept his attention focused on his history book, and ignored Bobby's comments. Bobby Drake was one of those kids who had to inject humour into everything, even during the most inappropriate times such as now. They were all in the middle of a lesson in one of the Institute's classrooms. Everybody was at their computer stations and Ms. Munroe was giving lessons at various steps in the process. Scott had the advantage of being slightly ahead of the others in certain areas. He had just finished a chemistry test earlier and just got back from a philosophy lesson with Professor Xavier. Now he had time to catch up on world history, a subject that had captured his interest since he was a child.

He found himself skipping ahead to the chapter on World War II. The areas he focused on were those surrounding the atrocities committed by the Nazis against the Jews, and anyone else they felt should be eradicated because of their differences. Pictures of the Holocaust struck him on a profound level. Scott's grandfather had helped liberate the concentration camps, and the stories he had passed down to his father were heartbreaking. His grandfather had been so affected by the horrors of those camps he developed PTSD and would later commit suicide when Scott's father was a teenager.

Scott wondered if this could be the fate of all mutants. The way humans treated them, and all the propaganda politicians on both sides were sending to the media, he couldn't help but be a little paranoid.

*Penny for your thoughts?*

A smile crossed Scott's face at the sound of the familiar voice. Or rather, the thought. He turned his head toward the pretty red-haired girl sitting next to him. Her eyes were glued to the computer screen as she typed away, and her lips hadn't moved. But she had clearly spoken to him.

Her name was Jean Grey, and she'd been the first one to introduce herself to Scott when he'd arrived at the Institute a few weeks ago. They had hit it off right away, having discovered that they had a lot in common, besides the obvious.

*Am I broadcasting too loudly?* Scott thought back.

*Yeah, kind of.* Jean sent back. *That's all right though. It's kind of my fault for listening in.*

*Sorry. I'm just thinking too much into things I guess.*

*Well, maybe I can help you relax a bit. We're all going out tonight. You should come with us.*

*Where are you going?*

*Have you ever heard of the Statix?*

*Um, I don't think so.*

*They're an all mutant rock band. They've got quite a few hits actually.*

*Are they good?*

*Are they good? Scott, they're seriously the best band out there. They're even more amazing live. They're playing at the Café-A-Go-Go tonight, and the Professor is letting us go see them.*

*Sure. I guess it wouldn't hurt to come along.*

*Awesome. Meet us out front at 7:30. Ms. Munroe will be driving us.*

*I'll be there.*

Scott's spirits rose with that final thought from Jean. He hadn't really socialized with his classmates in the time he'd been living at the Institute. He spent most of his free time in the library or the gym, either working on his assignments or exercising. This would be the first time in a long time he would be going out with friends, and he was looking forward to it.

[hr]

On an isolated island located off the northeast coast, Eric Lehnsherr, better known as Magneto, descended into a large mountainous structure. To anyone else, the island appeared to be uninhabited, and not exactly a place anyone would want to visit due to its rough terrain. The perfect place for Magneto to set up headquarters for his group of ragtag mutants known as the Brotherhood. Here, they were safe from the prying eyes of humans, and especially the prying mind of Charles Xavier and his gang of merry men. As much as Magneto had cared for Charles in the past, the two men just couldn't agree on certain things. Charles was an idealist. He believed that he could use diplomacy to bring about peace between humans and mutants. It was a dream Magneto had once shared, but not anymore.

He knew what humans were capable of. His own parents were Holocaust survivors, and they had the scars to prove it. Eric had grown up hearing stories of the evil, disgusting things that were done to the prisoners of the Nazi death camps. Medical experiments performed on children, starvation, beatings, and God only knew what else. Decades had passed since that horrible time, and nothing had changed, despite what everybody wanted to believe. Humans were and always would be savages who would turn on anyone who was different. They had done it for generations, and they would continue to do it until humanity was wiped off the planet. For Magneto, he hoped that day would come sooner rather than later.

Ever since the very first mutant came to be, humans were doing everything they could to bring them down, make them subhuman. It got worse and worse every year, and now it was at a point that mutants were the target of violent attacks and discrimination, just as the Jews had been during World War II. Eric knew it would only be a matter of time before mutants were rounded up, put in chains and herded off like cattle to state-sanctioned death camps. All because humans refused to accept that they were no longer top of the food chain.

Magneto was not about to let his people be oppressed, not again. This time, he was going to fight. He was going to ensure the survival of the mutant race. If it meant taking out every human swine on the planet, he would do it in a heartbeat.

As he approached the rocky structure, a series of mechanical gears activated and opened a large circular entranceway leading into the structure. The structure itself was massive and extended deep into the ground. The whole structure was lined with elaborate caves, organized like the floors of a skyscraper. To any outsider, it would appear that such a structure took an army of workers and decades to build. Yet with a single hand gesture, Magneto had created this place in a little under an hour and barely broke a sweat doing it.

Down below, three figures watched as he descended to the ground. One was a teenage boy of about sixteen with white hair similar to Magneto's clad in a shiny silver bodysuit. The other was a girl about the same age dressed in a red and black uniform with a silver pendant adorning her neck and long, dark auburn hair. And standing next to her was an older woman. This one was tall, athletic, with dark blue skin, long red hair, yellow, cat-like eyes and clad in a form-fitting black leather outfit that showed off her figure. And as he descended upon them, the three figures gathered respectfully around their powerful leader.

"Back so soon, Father?" asked the young man.

"It went better than I expected," replied Magneto removing his helmet as he landed. "Our new recruit will be arriving tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?" asked the girl.

"She's got some…important business to take care of."

"Of course she does," said the blue-skinned woman. "She never could put the mercenary life behind her."

"And that's why she's perfect for our cause, Mystique," Magneto said. "I never did thank you for bringing her to my attention."

"You're very welcome," said Mystique. "You'll be pleased with Brigitte. I should know. I taught her myself."

Magneto smiled. "In that case, Mystique, I am confident she'll make a good addition to the Brotherhood. Speaking of which, how is Mr. Dukes fairing?"

"Eating us out of house and home," groaned the young man. "I've always trusted your decisions, Father, but I think you were wrong with this one. He's useless."

"Pietro," warned the girl, a reddish energy surrounding her hand.

"I'm sorry, but I think I'm right on this one," Pietro continued. "All the walking lard bucket does is eat. What's he gonna do? Sit on our enemies? Eat them?"

That comment earned him a slap upside the head from the girl, the blow being mixed with the strange reddish energy that made it sting even more for the cocky young man.

"Ow! Watch the hexing, Wanda!"

"You were asking for it," said Wanda. "Now can the attitude!"

Mystique rolled her eyes at the twins' behaviour. It wasn't unusual for them to squabble. In fact, Mystique would be quite concerned if a day passed without them getting into an argument. Pietro and Wanda were two very different personalities. Pietro was cocky, arrogant and impatient. He wasn't afraid of making his opinions known, and he often behaved rather immaturely.

Wanda, on the other hand, was the kind of person who thought about her actions before acting upon them. She was patient, careful, and her maturity level was years beyond Pietro. It was no wonder they fought so much, but despite all that, it was also obvious they deeply cared for each other. Mystique noticed how protective they were of each other, and somewhere deep in her hardened heart, she felt a pang of sadness. She thought about her own children, and often wondered what kind of life they would have had had she not made certain choices that tore them apart once and for all. Mystique would always feel guilt over the pain she caused her own children, but what was done was done, and she couldn't change the past. She had to move on with her life, and bury the pain.

"Raven?"

Eric's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Yes, Magneto?"

"Ah good, you're still with us. I have been working on something I think you all will be interested in."

"What is it, Father?" asked Wanda.

Using his powers to raise a large console from below, Magneto activated a computer array. All around them, metallic components came to life, forming bridges and turning on machines. Lights flickered on all over the walls, revealing more complex machinery. And in the centre of the lair, a large monitor came up. Displayed on the screen were images of various mutants using their powers.

"Is that…" began Mystique.

"Yes," Magneto replied. "It's my own version of Cerebro. Why should Charles get to have all the fun?"

"Is that how you found The Blob?" asked Wanda.

Magneto nodded. "Indeed it is."

"Impressive," commented Mystique. "I take it you've found a new recruit."

"I have, actually." Magneto made a gesture and an image of a young man popped up on the screen. He couldn't have been more than seventeen. He was fairly tall with brown hair, and resembled your everyday street punk. He wore baggy pants and a grey sweater with a trench coat over top.

"I would like you all to meet Lance Alvers," Magneto said. "He may not look like much, but I can assure you his powers are rather volatile."

"So where's he at?" asked Pietro.

"None other than Bayville, New York," replied Magneto.

"Wait, isn't that where Xavier lives?" said Wanda.

"Yes. Which is why I want you to get their before he does. And not only will you find Mr. Alvers, but it seems like the Statix will be in town."

"Are you saying you want us to recruit the Statix?" said Pietro.

"We could always use more mutants on our side," said Magneto.

"But what if they're not interested?" asked Wanda.

"Appeal to their weaknesses, my dear," Magneto replied. "I've been monitoring these mutants for a while, and they appear to have some troubles of their own."

[hr]

Next up, Scott and friends go out for a night on the town, and things get a little wild. Kitty gets settled in, and we'll finally see some action between the X-Men and the Brotherhood. The idea for the Brotherhood headquarters and Magneto's Cerebro come from MarvelMaster616's X-Men Supreme series. Check it out. It's a good read.


End file.
